Bird on the Wind
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: Beckon Swann and William Turner were best friends after that fateful voyage from England, but a childhood mistake ends in them being separated until Beck's 21st Birthday - the night of the raid on Port Royal. Will Beck and Will be reunited and perhaps realize that they are more than just friends? POTC written with Elizabeth as a man.
1. Chapter 1

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Blue eyes snapped open._

_Tap._

_A pair of young feet scuffled to the window and opened it, the next pebble aimed at the glass zooming inside and clattering to the floor somewhere in the room._

_"Beck! C'mon, it's low tide!" fifteen-year-old William Turner hissed from the lawn below._

_"Will, you know I can't sneak out!" Beckon Swann replied._

_"Just this once? Please?" Will pleaded._

_"Fine." Beck replied, grinning. Will returned the grin._

_Two minutes later, Beck emerged from the house, properly dressed now, shutting the front door quietly behind him._

_"C'mon, I want to show you something." Will whispered. His eyes were bright with excitement, reflecting in the bright moonlight overhead._

_"O-okay." Beck replied shyly. Will grabbed his hand and dragged him off. Neither of them thought anything of it, they were just children._

_"What did you want to show me?" Beck asked as they raced down the streets of Port Royal toward the beach._

_"You'll see!"_

_"Wow..." Beck and Will breathed at the same time. The boys were crouched in the damp sand about a hundred feet out into the harbor, staring at a waterlogged chest in front of them._

_"Let's take it." Will breathed, trailing his fingers over the rotted wood. The boys could just barely see the faint outlines of gold bullion inside, the coins glinting in the still-bright moonlight._

_"Okay." Beck replied quietly. Each boy took a handle and began picking their way back to shore, sidestepping bits of wood and coral, their bare feet barely leaving a mark in the wet sand._

_"Isn't this dangerous?" Beck panted. The chest was heavier than it seemed, and both boys had sweat pouring down their backs._

_"Nah. The tide shouldn't come back in for a while. But when it does, one has to be careful." Will said, grinning._

_"Ah. OW!" Beck yelped, dropping his end of the chest._

_"What's wrong?" Will asked, dropping the chest as well._

_"M-my foot..." Beck sniffled. Blood dripped off his toe from where he'd stepped on an urchin._

_"Sit right here. I'll fetch our shoes. You'll be fine, little bird." Beck gave a small smile at the nickname and wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve. Will stood and began jogging back to the beach where they'd left their shoes._

_Beck examined his foot, gagging slightly as the blood continued to run from his toe. He thought for a moment, then untied his cravat and began wrapping it around his foot to stem the flow of blood. He would tell his father that he had gotten a bloody nose._

_The sea-scented breeze picked up, blowing Beck's long hair around his face. He looked out at the horizon, where the first rays of morning were already coming up. He looked at the chest, then began fiddling with the rotted wood, trying to get at the treasure inside. He managed to slide out one coin, turning it round and round between his fingers. _

_"BECK!" Will's scream jarred him out of his daydream. Beck looked around confusedly. Will was on the shore, jumping up and down and waving his arms. Beck couldn't make out what he was saying, the wind was blowing louder and louder in his ears._

_"WHAT?" Beck yelled back. His hair stopped moving in the breeze, but the sound kept getting louder._

_"RUN!" Will screamed. Beck looked behind him and saw a giant wall of water bearing down on him. Ignoring the pain in his foot, he scrambled up and began sprinting towards shore as fast as he could._

_Will ran his hands through his long hair in agitation. He was screaming incoherently, begging Beck to run faster, to escape the wall of water crashing down on him. For a moment, it almost looked like the younger boy would make it... Will realized he was crying with joy. He ran out onto the wet sand, eager to pull him along to safety._

_"Take my hand!" Will cried. Beck reached out for him._

_Five steps from safety, Beck's foot caught on a stray piece of driftwood. He fell hard on the silt and the water swallowed him, his screams lost in the roar of the tide._

_"NO!" Will screamed. The wall of water hit him at the chest, pushing him backwards. He spluttered and blinked salt out of his eyes, then dove over the breaking waves towards where he last saw Beck._

_"BECK!" He screamed against the tide, choking on seawater._

_From the lessons he learned while sailing over from England, Will remembered the quartermaster telling him something about the way the undertide pulls objects out of the center of the bay towards the cliff faces and out to sea. He held still and bobbed for a moment, letting the current pull him in the direction of the undertide. It was his best hope of saving Beck._

_Beck. If he died, the guilt would be unlivable. The quiet, shy boy always followed in his footsteps, even if it led to him getting in trouble._

_Will drifted towards the cliff face of the bay, spitting out seawater as he went. There were some large rocks nearby that if he wasn't careful, he would be dashed to pieces on them._

_When he was near enough, Will gripped onto the rocks, crying out at the rough rock cut his hands. The current surged around him, pulling him every which way. Using sheer arm strength, Will pulled himself on top of a rock, using handholds to grip on._

_He reached out for what looked like a good handhold, yelping as his hand touched something rubbery and cold. A hand. He pulled himself around and breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw Beck clinging onto the rock face, eyes closed. Will clasped Beck's hand in his._

_"I've got you, little bird. Hold on." Will said, pulling himself up onto the rock all the way and grabbing Beck's wrists so he could pull the smaller boy up along with him. Beck's head lolled to the side, his face deathly pale._

_Will slid off the rock on the other side, pulling Beck along with him. He laid on his back, laying Beck on his chest so he could pull him along and keep his head above water. He pushed off the rock and kicked steadily towards shore._

_It seemed like hours before they reached the beach. Will collpased into the sand, his body feeling like it weighed a ton. But he couldn't submit to sleep just yet._

_"Beck?" He asked, scared. He shook the younger boy's cold shoulder. No answer. Will rolled Beck onto his back and pressed his ear to his chest, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the slight rise and fall of breath. Beck was alive._

_"Oh, Beckon. I'm sorry!" He found himself sobbing. "I didn't mean to get you hurt, you always end up taking the blame for me. I'm so sorry!"_

_Will sobbed for a moment on Beck's chest, overcome with emotion and exhaustion._

_"Will?" Beck's weak voice came._

_"Oh, little bird." Will said, pushing some hair out of Beck's eyes. Beck blinked a little, his eye fluttering back closed. He mumbled something incoherent._

_"What?" Will asked. "Don't leave me, Beck!" He slapped the younger boy's face a couple times._

_"I said, we lost the chest." Beck said weakly._

_"Oh Beckon, all the gold in the world couldn't console me if I lost m'best mate." Will sniffed._

_"'M cold, Will." Beck said, eyes fluttering closed again._

_"I got you, little bird." Will said, curling around the smaller boy and closing his eyes as well._

Eight years later, twenty-year-old Beckon Swann opened his eyes, fighting off the dream he'd been having of that night long ago. It still frightened him, the sea crashing in around him, Will's heartbeat lulling him to sleep, his father's reaction later that morning when he'd found them curled around each other on the beach.

Governor Swann had been swift in his judgement; it was made clear to Beck that his association with Will Turner was terminated. He would stay in the mansion unless he left to inspect the Fort with his Father. He would be governor when his father died, so his education and future were set in stone.

Will had tried for a couple weeks to win back Governor Swann's approval, but to no avail. No matter how much Beck cried and pleaded, the two friends were separated forever.

"Beckon, are you awake?" Governor Swann's voice came from Beck's bedroom door. Beck stopped himself from reaching towards the desk drawer where he kept all his treasures - and one small, gold coin.


	2. Chapter 2

"Beckon, are you awake?" Governor Swann's voice came again from outside the door.

"Yes Father." Beck replied, crossing quickly to the door and throwing it open. Governor Swann stood there, accompanied by a whole enturage, which quickly moved in without his permission.

While the maid and butler tidied the room and opened the drapes to the lovely caribbean morning, Governor Swann went on at length about the ceremony taking place that day.

"As you know, the soon-to-be commodore is an essential ally, Beckon. You must be on excellent terms if your time here as governor is to be a success. He will be in charge of your defense, and you will be in charge of granting his claims and monitoring the progress of the unit."

The tailor joined them, immediately throwing Beck some breeches of grey cloth closely followed by a matching grey jacket with gold embroidery. Beck rolled his eyes and tried to listen to what his father was saying.

"The future Commodore already considers you a close acquaintance, Beckon, but you must solidify the partnership to- to... Beckon Columbus Swann, are you hearing me?"

"Yes, Father." Beck sighed. The Tailor flapped about, sewing on buttons and adding lace wherever possible.

"Beckon, I just want you to have everything you need to be happy here... But I feel like your head is miles away!"

"Father, we've talked about this..." Beck protested. "I want to sail the ocean, get a taste of what life is like out there! I want to live before I have to be holed up in this fort pretending to govern people!"

"Get out." the Governor snapped at the Tailor and the remaining servants, who exited quickly. Beck rolled his eyes and turned to the window, leaning on the frame and staring out at the ocean.

"I just want to have a little adventure before the time comes for me to take my place here."

"Beckon, listen to me!" Governor Swann protested, striding over to the window. "The sea is too dangerous. Without you, there will be no one to take my place. Put this nonsense about sailing off into the horizon out of your head."

Beck turned to look at his father, his ocean blue eyes stormy with anger. His father sighed.

"You resemble your mother more and more these days, son." The Governor said.

"But I'm not my mother..." Beck protested. "I won't just leave you like she did."

The Governor pursed his lips then reached out and adjusted Beck's cravat. Beck pushed his hands away and moved to the door.

"I'll see you at the ceremony, Father."

* * *

Beck walked quickly down the hall and down the grand stair, anger roiling beneath his smooth face. As he went he grabbed a ribbon off a side dressing table and tied his long brown hair back in a ponytail.

As he reached the foyer, he noticed another presence. A young man was standing with his back to the staircase, looking out the grand front window at the ocean. Two long boxes lay resting against the wall nearby.

"Excuse me, my father will be with you shortly." Beck said, not wishing to be caught up in his father's business feeling the way he did at the moment. All he needed was some air to clear his head.

"Excuse me." The man turned. Beck froze halfway down the last few steps.

"Will." He breathed.

"Beckon." Will replied, sounding surprised. Beck unglued himself from the stairs and walked forward slowly, offering his hand. He hadn't seen Will in what had to have been several years at least... and only then it had been a passing glance.

"Beckon! Beckon! You've ah, forgotten your wig!" The Governor's voice came from the hall. Beck's eyes widened and he quickly dropped his hand, turning to face his father as he arrived at the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Father. I do not wish to wear it today. The wind is blowing rather hard and I'm afraid I might lose it." Beck said politely.

"Very well, then. At least take your hat so you don't look like a- good day, Mr. Turner." The Governor said, his demeanor changing as he caught sight of Will.

"I came with your order from Mr. Brown." Will said smoothly. Beck accepted his tricorn hat from his father, turning it over in his hands nervously.

"Very well, let's see what you and your Master have created." The Governor said, moving toward the boxes Will had brought with him.

"Ah, yes. You'll be wanting the future Commodore's first, then?" Will said. He picked up one of the boxes and set it on the hall table, opening it with a flourish. Beck peered over his Father's shoulder to see Will lift up a beautiful sword.

"Perfectly balanced. The handle is nearly two thirds of the blade." The polished metal shone in the early morning sun.

"Excellent, the Commodore will be pleased." The Governor said.

"For, ah, the other one, would you prefer to go in your study to look at it closely?" Will said.

"Nonsense!" The Governor barked. "Bring it out!"

Will put the Commodore's blade back in its box, then opened the other box. The sword inside was even more beautiful than the first. Beck let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Will pulled the sword out, then turned and held out the handle to the younger Swann. Beck looked at his father in confusion.

"Happy Birthday, Beckon." The Governor said with a smile.

Beck reached out with shaking fingers and took the sword from Will. It fit perfectly in his hand.

"Give it a brandish, I reckon." The Governor said. Will nodded in assent. Beck moved into the larger part of the foyer than gave the sword an experimental swing. It arced through the air without so much as a wobble. Excited, Beck performed a couple combinations from his fencing lessons. The blade sang as he brandished it.

"Thank you, Father!" Beck said when he had finished, bringing the sword back with eyes all aglow.

"I'm glad you like it, son." The Governor smiled. He turned to Will. "I will send the latter half of the payment on the morrow, good day." Will bowed and took his exit.

Beck stared at the sword a moment more in absolute awe, then retrieved the scabbard from the box, sheathing his new blade.

"I hope that a gift like that will re-inspire you to do great things. The governor said, watching his son.

"Thank you Father, it is a fine gift." Beck replied. He tied the sword onto his belt.

"Go on ahead, I have some business to attend to before the ceremony. Take Helvard with you." The Governor said with finality before retreating to his study. Beck's eyes lit up and he dashed out the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Beckon completely ignored his father's request to take Halvard with him, dashing out the front door and down the drive. He could just see Will Turner's lanky figure at the end of the path.

"Mr. Turner!" he called as he drew nearer. Will turned, obviously surprised.

"My-ah, my father has some business to attend to before the ceremony and I am not to meet him for another hour yet, I thought that you could-um, tell me more about this fine sword you have crafted."

Beckon almost thought that Will would refuse. The older man looked hesitantly up to the manor and then back at him.

"Well, that depends, Mr. Swann."

"On?" Beck asked.

"On whether you will be addressing me as Mr. Turner all morning!" He laughed, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. Beckon felt himself momentarily breathless. Perhaps it was the combination of disobeying his father and seeing his friend for the first time in years, but he felt positively euphoric.

"Come back to my shop, Mr. Brown will still be asleep and there is some breakfast to be had, I'm sure. We can talk." Will said, clapping him on the back. The two men proceeded down the drive and into town.

The smithy was spacious and clean, racks of swords and other forged materials hanging from racks all over the shop. A small donkey grazed on some hay in the corner.

"It's not much, but it's home." Will said softly.

"I like it." Beck said. Indeed, he did. It reminded him of Will; everything was set up according to his liking, and the scent was familiar: smoke, metal and hay.

"Care for a drink?" Will offered a bottle of rum. "It's probably not up to your father's standard, but never did anyone any harm." Beckon accepted the bottle and took a sip.

A snore sounded from the other side of the workshop, and Will smiled. "Mr. Brown starts on the bottle late at night and never truly wakes up."

"Ah." Beck replied. An awkward silence settled in as Will began to putter around, cleaning up one of the workstations. He took another sip from his bottle.

"I guess you are nearly one-and-twenty now? With your birthday tomorrow and all?" Will asked after a moment.

"Yes. Yes, my birthday... I'm surprised you remember the exact date." Will grimaced and turned his way.

"You think I have forgotten anything about you? These eight years... have not been easy, knowing that you will be separated from your best friend - your brother, because of your mistake."

"Will..." Beckon said, setting his bottle aside and moving towards the older man. "I do not blame you for the events eight years ago."

"But your father does. You saw his face this morning when we met on the stairs."

"My father thinks that I will be an exact replica of him and become Governor one of these days." Beckon looked down, taking off his tricorn and twisting it nervously in his hands.

"And what do you think, little bird?" Will asked, leaning back against the workstation and fixing Beckon in his gaze. Beck felt a little dizzy from the intensity of the older man's stare.

"I-I think that my destiny lies elsewhere." Beck replied quietly, meeting Will's brown eyes with his blue ones.

Will reached out towards Beck before he could stop himself, his fingers brushing a lock of hair that had escaped from Beck's ponytail. It looked as though he would tuck the strand of hair behind Beck's ear, but thought better of it and let his hand drop.

"You should leave. No doubt your father will be looking for you." Will said, moving away across the shop.

Beck straightened, residual tension running through him. He could see that Will was feeling the same. He moved to the door.

"May I see you again?" he asked quietly, expecting the answer to be a negative.

"Of course, Beckon." Will replied softly. "You always have a place at my side."

"Good day then, Mr. Turner." Beck said, shutting the wooden door behind him on his way out.

"Good day, Mr. Swann." Will replied inaudibly.

* * *

Trumpets blared inside the fort, marking the commencement of the ceremony. Beckon sighed and adjusted his collar for the umpteenth time. It was getting hotter by the second and he didn't have the luxury of a fan like the noble ladies on his right. He was regretting not pleading illness... but then again, he wouldn't have seen Will again, even if their meeting was brief and awkward.

Beck sighed and reached into his pocket to fiddle again with the old gold coin he had taken out of his dresser upon his return to the mansion before the ceremony. He didn't know why he had it with him, only that it eased his confusion some about Will. Their parting had not gone the way he had originally wanted, though he wasn't even sure of what he expected. They hadn't spoken in eight years, it wasn't just like they could pick up where they had left off, talking about the sea and the stables like boys. They were men now... and men talked about... Beck hadn't a clue.

Well, perhaps he had some idea. Men talked about women. Not that Beck had met a wide range, of course. Nor had he someone to talk to about them. He was terribly shy when it came to the women his father lobbed at him like cannon fire. They were all petty, usually disdainful at being trapped in the Caribbean colonies, and horribly gossipy. It made Beckon want to sail away from Port Royal as fast as possible every time his father invited some new lady to the mansion for dinner.

"Governor Swann, Beckon, good day." Commodore Norrington's smooth voice cut through the buzzing conversation in Beck's mind. The ceremony was already over.

"Good day." Beck halfheartedly replied. He anxiously looked around. Speaking of recent women he was desperate to sail away from...

"Beckon Swann! How good to see you again!" A shrill voice cut in.

"Katrina! Good to see you." Governor Swann said to the tall, rather horse-faced redhead that had joined the conversation. Commodore Norrington's harpy of a daughter, who Beckon had been forced to spend a fair share of tedious dinner parties and dances with. She giggled and latched onto Beckon's arm like a leech. Beck tried very hard not to grimace.

"Commodore, I believe we should leave our two children alone together, I think they have some matter of importance to discuss." Governor Swann said with a conspiratorial smile. The Commodore acquiesced, pushing Beckon in the direction of the Fort Wall. Katrina giggled and dragged him along.

"My mother has told me that I will be spending the winter in England with her while my father carries on here. I'm so happy to not have missed my winter season, it will mean the world to me to dress up and parade about the London scene with all my old friends, just like before when-"

"That's wonderful, Katrina. Now I really must be going." Beck simultaneously tugged on his collar and the arm that was grasped tightly in Katrina's talons.

"No! You will stay here with me, Beckon." She swung him around and led him along the wall's edge. Beck fiddled with his collar again. He was beginning to feel lightheaded.

"And then, after the season is over and I've had my fun, then I'll sail right back here in time for us to be married and-"

"What?!" Beckon stopped in his tracks.

"Do keep up, Becon. I said that we'll be married as soon as I return from London, just-"

"Katrina."

"We'll be married here, I think. We'll take a lavish honeymoon to the french indies, and then-"

"Katrina!"

"Yes dear, what?"

They reached the edge of the wall and Beckon yanked furiously at his collar.

"Where have you gotten this crazy notion that we are to be married next year!?"

"Beckonnnn..." Katrina simpered. "Don't you know what our fathers have been planning? You're supposed to be proposing to me!"

"What? No!"

Katrina stomped her foot, a few pieces of red hair springing out of her updo.

"This is supposed to be the most romantic day of my life! Now stop acting foolish and do what you're supposed to!" Katrina attempted to compose herself. Beck stepped back, his knees hitting the edge of the wall.

"Katrina, there's been a mistake. We cannot be married." Beck tried to keep calm, but it was becoming harder to breathe. Over Katrina's shoulder, he could see the Commodore and his father watching them. He didn't realize that his hand had gone to his pocket, where it was gripping the gold coin tightly.

"You selfish oaf!" Katrina hit him across the chest with her fan. "You WILL marry me!"

"No!" Beckon protested. Katrina began hitting him harder with her fan and her other hand, raining blows down on his arms and chest.

"Katrina, calm down-" Beck tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs would not respond. Katrina reached back her arm and slapped him as hard as she could with her fan across the face. Beck had enough time to give her one perplexed look before he tumbled backwards out of sight.

"Beckon, come back here!" She shouted down at the splash Beck's body made in the surf almost a hundred feet below.

* * *

"So, as I was sayin' mates, a captain is-" Jack Sparrow's rant on captainism and its glories was cut short by a loud splash nearby.

"Blimey." one of the guards said, looking at the spot where Beckon disappeared underwater.

"Will you not be saving him, then?" Jack Sparrow asked. Both guard shook their heads. Jack rolled his eyes and began stripping off his affects before diving into the surf.

* * *

The next thing Beck knew, a fountain of water was gushing out of his mouth and the collar of his jacket lay in two pieces on his lap. A rather unnerving bearded man was staring intently at him, clutching one of Beck's hands. The hand that happened to be holding the coin from his dresser.

"Where did you get that?" The man asked quietly. Beckon had time to notice the 'P' brand on his outstretched forearm before the Commodore and his father arrived.


End file.
